


Iron Man

by Maya_Di_Angelo



Series: Recreating a Universe [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aunt Peggy Carter, Canon Rewrite, Gen, Iron Man 1, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Only canon torture scenes, Peggy Carter is Tony Stark's Godparent, Peggy Carter is present, Sort Of, Starks are disasters, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, fuck obadiah stane, not iron man 1 compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25861915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maya_Di_Angelo/pseuds/Maya_Di_Angelo
Summary: “I am Iron Man”His family would be put in danger, yes, but he’d always be there to protect them.—An Iron Man rewrite because they deserve better.—The first of many.
Relationships: Butterfingers & Dummy & Jarvis & Tony Stark & You (Iron Man movies), Happy Hogan & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Peggy Carter & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Tony Stark
Series: Recreating a Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876648
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You know how when you talk with your friends and then something clicks and all of you go “oh my god this is possible” ?
> 
> That is what this is. The beginning of the complete rewrite of Marvel Cinematic Universe not because that movies suck or anything but we wanted to recreate the one thing that brought us all together, with the touch of our own imagination.

Wind swept past the moving vehicles, loud and unforgiving in the way it’s cold clutches snagged and snared the flesh, fighting to seep into the bones. 

Trails of swirling dust particles left in the wake of the jeeps -military sanctioned, as identified by the logo. A barren landscape surrounded them from all sides; dry land with fissures and chilling snow-covered mountain peaks. 

Oddly enough, the place held a strange beauty to it. Devastating, so devastating -yet so beautiful.

The air thrummed with vibration induced by the song played in one of the jeeps. The soldier driving the jeep tapped a finger along the steering wheel according to the rhythm.

Two other soldiers were present: both young, barely out of adolescence. They sat stiff, an identical indecisive look on their faces.

"I feel like you're driving me to a court martial. This is crazy. What did I do?"

The soldiers didn’t reply, staring ahead with their breath held in their lungs. 

“I feel like you're gonna pull over and snuff me,” A man looked towards one of the young soldiers, looking rather out of place with his expensive suit and glass of barely-drunk whiskey. "What, you're not allowed to talk?”

“Hey, Forrest!” The man,  _ Tony Stark _ , called, lips twitching into a teasing grin.

“We can talk, sir.” The soldier replied, his eyes flickering to the brown-haired genius briefly.

"Oh, I see. So it's personal?" 

“No, you intimidate them,” a female voice sounded from the front of the jeep, sounding deeply amused.

“Dear god, you're a woman." Tony exclaimed, seeming to be surprised and impressed, looking at her. "I honestly, I couldn't have called that. I mean I'd apologize, but isn't that what we're going for here?”

The young soldier chuckled to himself.

"I thought of you as a soldier first," Tony confessed.

"I'm an airman," the woman replied, a smile playing on her lips. 

"Well you have actually excellent bone structure there. I'm kinda... having a hard time not looking at you now. Is that weird?"

Polite laughter passes around the vehicle, the soldiers surrounding the billionaire looking tense as if a cobra was coiling around their necks.

Warm, brown eyes hidden behind sunglasses flit across each of them, calculating and wondering. 

“Come on, it’s okay,” A small grin crosses Tony’s face. “Laugh, hey!”

The soldier sitting in the passenger seat turned to face the billionaire, his face eager and blue eyes intrigued.

“Sir, I have a question.”

“Yes, please.”

“Is it true that you went 12 for 12 with last year's Maxim cover models?”

“That is an excellent question,” Tony takes his sunglasses off with a flourish because he was dramatic that way. “Yes and no, March and I had a scheduling conflict, but fortunately the Christmas cover was twins.”

Scheduling conflict being the  _ Festa Delle Donne  _ that his mom, Aunt Peggy and he used to celebrate, now just Aunt Peggy and him but no one had to know that.

The airman driving the vehicle smirked. 

“Anything else?” Tony asked, a smile tugging his lips as he noticed the others’ awed expressions. He didn’t know why they were surprised, he was known for being a playboy.

The soldier beside him, one who looked the youngest out of the lot, hesitantly raised his hand. 

“You’re kidding me with the raised hand, right?” Tony wondered as the soldier flushed lightly and lowered his hand quickly. 

“Is it cool if I take a picture with you?” The soldier asked, eyeing the man who raised Stark Industries to where it was now. 

“Yes, it’s very cool,” Tony agreed, sunglasses once again perched on his nose. It’s not that he thought it was cool or made him look dramatic (though that was definitely a plus) but it hid his eyes and worked as an intimidating factor. 

His eyes had always been very expressive. He could control everything but his eyes - they were the windows to his soul. They always outed him. His mother loved his eyes, often calling him her  _ Little Bambi _ when she had been alive. 

The soldier grinned, like St. Nicholas had come to life right before his eyes, and scrambled to get his camera out from his pocket. He handed the camera to the soldier in front of him and leaned closer to Tony, throwing up a peace sign.

“I don’t want to see this on your MySpace page,” Tony said, cocking his head and posing for the camera as if he had been doing it his whole life -which he had. 

Then, just to mess with the soldier, “And please, no gang signs.”

The young soldier glanced at him nervously and lowered his hand.

“I’m kidding,” Tony chuckled, his hand mimicking the soldier’s earlier sign. “Throw it back up.”

"Yeah, peace!" Tony said, as the soldier put up his sign again, beaming. "I love peace. I'd be outta a job with peace.” 

“Come on! Just click it! Don’t change anything!” The young soldier cried, as the one with the camera fiddled with it. 

Distantly Tony heard the communication device in the front beep before-

**_BOOM_ **

“Oh fu-” The soldier in the back sweared as an explosion erupted before their jeep.

The air inside the small vehicle felt constricting as scared screams filled it. The airman in the front began shouting orders as she was the only one even remotely calm. 

“Jimmy! Harold! Stay with Stark!” She ordered, leaping off the jeep, gun firing for mere few seconds before she was shot down. 

The other two soldiers who had leapt out into the open field were quickly shot down too. Harold, ordering the young soldier to stay put with the billionaire wandered into the field cautiously.

“What’s going on?” Tony yelled, something foul swirling in the pit of his stomach and his anxiety skyrocketing. He needed to know the situation, he needed to find a grounding or he’s going to succumb to fear.

“Stay in!” Jimmy shouted, eyes filled with dread and grim acceptance. “Stay down Stark!”

“Wait! Wait! Give me a gun! Sh-” The soldier slammed his way out the door with a cry of ‘son of a bitch’ and began firing at the enemies.

Bullets pounded against the metal that was the jeep with a furious rhythm. Another explosion went off, this time directly behind the jeep, causing it to rattle violently.

Heart hammering in his chest, Tony watched with fear in his eyes -sunglasses lost in the chaos- as blood splattered against the window when the kid fell to the ground like a marionette cut from its strings. 

“No…” Tony gasped and scrambled to the door. Light poured through the multiple gunshot holes on it, and Tony flung it open, goosebumps climbing his arms.

The battlefield cries and blasts faded into the background as ringing filled his ears. He crawled out and stumbled to find shelter. He watched, helpless as another soldier went down, in a strangely detached sort of way. 

And another.

_ And _ another.

Like he was trapped in a glass box, forcibly cut off from the world. Like he was floating out of his body, a mere observer instead of the participant that he was. Like his brain was freezing its functions to protect his senses.

A bullet, whipped past him, grazing against his ear and the world came to focus as if someone had flipped the switch on. 

“No no no,” The pleas fell from his lips like a mantra, as he fell to his knees behind a rock. The air closed around his throat, smoke and dust surrounded his vision. 

_ Breathe Antonio _

Tony gasped, his eyes flying open and he didn’t know when he had closed them in the first place. He clutched onto the tendril of the memory to ground himself. 

The whistle of a shell reached his ears, drowning the sound of his beating heart. Tony pulled out his phone -which had miraculously survived- and tried to activate protocol-

**_Whoosh_ **

“Oh fuck.”

The white letters of  _ Stark Industries _ stared back at him from a missile barely four meters away from him. 

“ _ Oh fuck,” _ Tony got to his feet and tried to scramble away but before he could register it, the sound of his missle blasting reached him. He let out a strangled cry as he was thrown back. 

His ears rang. Smoke filled his nostrils. His mouth felt like ash. His eyes watered and burned. His skin burned. 

Hands moving on his own in a trance, he ripped open his shirt and as red slowly soaked into the once pristine white shirt. He knew this was the end. 

Pain bloomed in his chest, everything whitened. All that was left was the white and his pain.

_ The white and his pain.  _

  
  


—

  
  


_ Stark… _

_...Lies… _

_ We didn’t know… _

_ Most van egy célunk _

_ Omoara-l… _

_...Blackmail… _

A thousand voices contorted into one single buzz. He couldn’t see anything -everything was white. 

His chest felt dug out.

_ No… _

_ Please, it hurts! _

_ No! Please it hurts! Stop! _

_ No no no… _

_ Make it stop! Please… _

_ Stop the pain… it hurts... _

_ Please just kill me… _

_ It hurts... _

_ Madre… please help me, Madre please! Take me with you. _

_ Hurts… Dad? Dad please- _

_ No! Please  _ **_stop!_ **

His vision swam and his chest felt torn open. 

  
  


—

  
  


The cruel tendrils of reality clutched and pulled him from the painless unconsciousness. Dried blood caked his face, strongly emanating the tang of iron.

He couldn’t breathe as he should’ve, and his eyes fluttered, unable to keep them open. His every single nerve was on fire, burning him from the inside. 

The distorted buzzing noise slowly inched towards comprehension, and Tony’s brain struggled to place the language.

Red light blinked against his eyelids, and his unfocused eyes caught the camera positioned before him.

Everything clicked in his mind as his hair was yanked back harshly, and the hazy cloud of pain overwhelmed his senses once more. 

_ He had been taken hostage… _

  
  


—

  
  


**_Precisely 36 hours ago…_ **

“Tony Stark -Visionary. Genius. American patriot." A voice narrated and the face of the CEO of one of the most powerful companies in the world appeared on a screen.

“Even from an early age, the son of legendary weapons developer Howard Stark quickly stole the spotlight with his brilliant and unique mind. At age four, he built his first circuit board.”

As the voice droned on, the screen positioned above a red carpeted stage, surrounded by various kinds of people -all draped with luxurious and smart outfits- displaying pictures of Tony and his achievements. 

“At age six, his first engine. And at seventeen, he graduated Summa Cum Laude from MIT-”

Under the screen, behind a glass podium, a man stood. He seemed confident at first glance, back ramrod straight and eyes focused on the staggering number of people in front of him. He seemed pretty confident, if one ignored the nervous tick of his jaw and the fierce grip he had on the podium. 

The applause of the audience, once the slideshow was over, revived the man out of the hyper focus he had on the sea of faces. 

The man gave a small grin, sucking in a gulp of air through his mouth and trying to project his inner Tony Stark. 

“As liaison to Stark Industries,” the man began, a smile curling against his lips. “I've had the unique privilege of serving with a real patriot. He is my friend and he is my great mentor.”

The man let out a deep stated sigh, his eyes crinkling with pride, “Everyone, it is my honor to present this year's Apogee Award to Dr. Stark!"

The sound of clapping reached his ears once more and the man grinned, holding up the award to the rambunctious crowd. 

When the applause began dwindling to naught but a murmur, the man called the awardee’s name once more in hopes of the billionaire appearing out of nowhere. 

The man tracked his eyes through the curious faces staring back at the stage, at him, and found an older balding man shaking his head at him sympathetically. 

The man behind the podium sighed and nodded at the balding man, who in return drained the wine glass in his hand and slowly got to his feet. 

“Tony…” the man who held the prestigious award in his hands sighed his best friend’s name under his breath, exasperation and annoyance colouring his tone.

  
  


—

  
  


**_34 and a half hours ago..._ **

The casino was loud, obnoxious and irritating; bright colours that could pierce through one’s eyesight; people dancing, chattering and playing through the weird and drunken haze. Everything was obnoxious, irritating and  _ loud. _ Everything everyone thought he was. Everything he hated.

Tony forced on a smirk as another person draped themselves against his back, the perfume overwhelming him so much that he felt a little light-headed. 

He hadn’t drunk much that night - he learned his lesson very well when he woke up once without any memory of what had happened and the labs of MIT on fire. 

He pushed the feeling of uncomfortability away and concentrated on living in the moment. The growing crowd around him cheered as he picked up the dice again. 

“Come on!” He called out to the mob, flashing a grin and laughing along as the crowd cheered again furiously.

“Yeah,” he rolled the dice.

A rambunctious roar went around him again when he felt his phone ring. 

“Oh bloody hell no,” as soon as he saw the caller ID. 

“Hey, buddy,” Tony patted the man on his right with a smirk. “You go on, yeah?”

The billionaire slipped away from the constricting hold of the people’s clutches and ignored the man’s bewildered look, behind him he heard Happy follow him. 

Tony cleared his throat, as he moved away from the casino enough for the noise to fade away, and accepted the call.

“Hey,” He elongated the word, and his lips were stretched in a nervous grin. “How are you doing?”

The line crackled for a second as if the person on the other end was moving and then-

“Hello Antonio,” the voice, clearly a female, said. “You’ve been gone for less than a day, Little Star, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” Tony chuckled softly, accepting the water bottle Happy handed him with a nod. “But… but you’re the only one I have. I am always going to be worried.”

Both sides stilled, conversation pausing softly as emotion overtook them both, stealing the ability to speak. 

“Now, that’s not true my little Antonio,” the voice said gently. “You have Pepper and Rhodey. You have Sharon, Hope and Happy -he loves you too, and of course DUM-E, Butterfingers and U are there for you,” the voice paused and Tony swallowed heavily. “You’re never alone, darling.”

Tony sniffed and huffed, trying to not let the emotions get control of him. 

“Alright, Aunt Peggy,” he chuckled emotionally. “Alright.”

“Now,” the voice, Aunt Peggy, said, her tone ringing with playfulness. “I really hope you haven’t abandoned your best friend.”

The ever whirling mind of the genius stuttered to a stop. He blinked and then blinked again, trying to comprehend what his godmother had just said.

“... what?”

“You forgot didn’t you?” The amusement in the other woman’s voice was palpable and a scowl fought its way over to rest on Tony’s face.

“Aunt Peggy-”

“Rhodey is supposed to give you the Apogee Award, Little Berry,” Peggy stated. “If you go now, you’d be able to reach right in time.”

“Okay, yeah I can do that,” Tony agreed, eyes drawing to Happy. “I’ll talk to you later Zia Peggy, love you.”

“Love you too, Antonio.”

Tony strode to his car and motioned Happy to get in the back.

“But boss-”

“I didn’t drink that much Hap, we need to be there quickly,” Tony was quick to appease his worried driver and get into the driving seat. 

“If you say so boss,” Happy sighed and lumbered into the passenger seat. He put on the seat belt before Tony could have the chance to start the engine.

  
  


—

  
  


As the bald man was about to walk down the path to the stage, ear deafening applause rose from the audience. 

A gleam of irritation flashed in the older man’s eyes before he sat back down. 

On the opposite end of the red carpeted path leading to the stage stood Tony. 

Up on the stage, the man handing out the award huffed out in disbelief at his friend’s antics. 

The prodigal son flashed a smirk at everyone before sauntering up to the stage.

“Hey honey-bear,” he grinned as he noticed the exasperated look his friend was shooting him. “Thought I abandoned you, did you?”

“Please,” the man rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “You only came because Aunt Peggy reminded you. I  _ know _ you, Tones.”

A sheepish grin grew on the genius’s face, and something softened in the man’s expression as he recalled a similar grin on the genius’ face when they first met.

“Yeah, okay,” the genius smiled. “You gonna give me the award or?”

“I don’t know,” the man grinned, taking the award away from the podium. “You  _ did  _ forget-”

“Rhodey!” Tony laughed, eyes crinkling behind those black sunglasses and Rhodey took a moment to appreciate the sudden loss of years in the brunette’s face, returning the carefree youth he had carried during college. 

“Hey,” Rhodey smiled, waiting till the other accepted the award to talk. “I’m proud of you.”

  
  


—

  
  


“Tomorrow,” Rhodes reminded him, again. “Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t, you know me,” Tony said, as they made their way out of the function hall. The wind blew gently and the sky was pitch black, lacking the beauty of stars splattered across it like a canvas.

Happy was already by the car waiting for him, his back and tie straight.

“I know,” Rhodey sighed from his side. “That’s why I know you’re going to be late.”

“Come on,” The brunette grinned. “Have some faith.”

“Yeah right,” The Colonel huffed, before turning on his heels and leaving. “See you tomorrow, Tones.”

“Yeah, later.”

As he got to his car, and as Happy was about to open the door, a voice called his name. He paused as it got closer.

“Mr. Stark, excuse me, Mr. Stark!” A platinum blonde woman came into his view, face pink and slightly out of breath. “Christine Everheart, Vanity Fair Magazine. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”

She was attractive, Tony couldn’t deny that, and she was very clever too, he decided as he noticed the camera on her coat disguised as a button -too bad he knew what to expect. 

He glanced at his bodyguard and driver, an eyebrow raised.

“She’s cute,” he murmured, eyes flitting to her before finding Tony’s.

“She’s alright,” Tony muttered back low enough so that Everheart’s tech wouldn’t pick it up.

“Hi,” he said louder and turned to the reporter with a practiced grin. 

“Hi,” the woman replied.

“Yeah, ask away.”

“You've been called the Da Vinci of our time,” she began, eyes sharp and narrowed in scrutiny. “What do you think of that?”

“Absolutely ridiculous,” Tony huffed. “I don’t paint.”

“And what do you say to your other nickname, Merchant of Death?” 

“That's not bad,” he said, nodding. “Let me guess... Berkeley?”

"Brown, actually," Christine corrected.

"Well, Ms. Brown, it's an imperfect world but it's the only one we've got. I guarantee you the day weapons are no longer needed to keep the peace, we'll start making bricks and beams for baby hospitals.”

“Rehearse that much?" Christine raised her eyebrows.

"Every night in front of the mirror before bedtime," Tony retorted, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I'd like to see that.”

"I'd like to show you firsthand but unfortunately I need to go,” Tony motioned at Happy to start the car. He couldn’t possibly bring a woman home today. He wouldn’t do that, not when there’s a possibility of...

"All I want is the serious answer," Christine said, inching closer. 

"Okay, here’s serious. My old man had a philosophy -peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy.”

“That's a great line coming from the guy who sells the sticks," the blonde commented, and Tony removed his sunglasses impatiently.

“Look, my father helped defeat Nazis. He worked on the Manhattan Project. A lot of people, including your professors at Brown, would call that being a hero.”

“A lot of people would also call that war profiteering.”

The billionaire paused as Everheart’s words reached him. 

_ War profiteering _

He hated that word but wasn’t that what he was doing? 

Tony sighed as he noticed that Christine had caught onto his hesitation. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Tell me, do you plan to report on the millions we've saved by advancing medical technology? Or kept from starvation with our intelli-crops? All those breakthroughs: military funding, honey.”

That wasn’t necessarily true, they didn’t need the funding. They were an advantage but not a need for them. He just had never thought about redirecting the company’s path, and no one had ever encouraged him to.

“Oh wow,” Christine said, her lips twitching sardonically. “You ever lose an hour of sleep in your life?”

Tony looked back at his car and huffed out a final response before striding away from Ms. Everheart. 

“Millions, darling. Millions.”

  
  


—

  
  


“Hey boss?” Happy’s voice reached the back of the car and startled Tony from his thoughts.

“Yeah, Happy?” The philanthropist tilted his head to the side, sunglasses dangling between his fingers.

“Why didn’t you…” the man driving vaguely waved his hand, trying to form the question he couldn’t find the words to do so.

“Bring her home?” Tony guessed, lips twisting into an amused smirk. 

The former boxer shrugged and flushed slightly. Amusement and some sort of heavy feeling simultaneously bloomed in the brunette’s chest and he chuckled bitterly.

“I- I can’t-” Tony exhaled harshly through his nose. “Look I can’t do that. What if Aunt Peggy is home? I can’t do that to her. I won’t do that to her, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Silence like the frozen air of Arctic, penetrated by the hot and harsh pants from the brunette, settled in the car like a joke of a blanket. 

“Right,” Happy nodded, licking his lips -a tick of his whenever he’s anxious, Tony noted. “Boss.”

  
  


—

  
  


In the quiet atmosphere of the mansion - that sat on the edge of a cliff, directly set to view the breathtaking clash of waves and warm sunrise- the sharp click-clacks of heels resonated eerily. 

“JARVIS, what’s the situation?” The strawberry-haired woman, to whom those painfully high heels belonged, asked, giving one of the cameras a glance.

A british gentleman’s voice came from some of the speakers strategically placed within the mansion walls. 

“Sir is down in his workshop since last night, Ms. Potts.” JARVIS replied, his tone surprisingly filled with emotions, something that was thought to be impossible. “And he is going to be late to meet with Colonel Rhodes if he is not roused from his… daze.”

“I see,” Ms. Potts, the personal assistant of Tony Stark, drawled with exasperation. “Thank you, JARVIS.”

“My pleasure, Ms. Potts.”

Ms. Potts brushed back a lock of hair from her face and made her way to the kitchen, she was going to have a long day.

First stop though, coffee. Then the devil.

  
  


—

  
  


“What’s up with the lady, or lack of one?” The blue-eyed PA asked her boss after successfully dragging him to the upper floor. 

“Mm,” hummed Tony, a tad irritated that everyone seemed to be fixated on the fact that he didn’t have some woman with him. “Didn’t want Aunt Peggy to see me like that. Of course she wasn’t here but just in case.”

It only irred him further when he spotted his PA’s raised eyebrows. She didn’t believe him, of course. He didn’t exactly have a good track record for her to truly have some faith in him but it still hurt. 

“Look,” Tony let out a sigh to maintain his temper. “What is it?” 

“You are supposed to be halfway around the world right now." She said pointedly, and walked around the kitchen counter.

“Oh is that so?” Tony asked idly, internally groaning at the lecture his Rhodey was sure to give him. “That's funny... I thought with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there."

The strawberry blonde ignored him and started talking, too used to his personality.

"Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple of things before I get you out of the door.”

"I mean, doesn't it kind of defeat the purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you leave?” Tony continued, turning to face his assistant.

"Larry called, he's got another buyer for the Jackson Pollock in the wings, do you want it, yes or no?"

"Is it a good representation of his Spring Period?" Tony dumped the remaining coffee into the sink, and wiped his hands on a towel.

"Uh, no, the ‘Springs’ is actually the neighborhood in East Hampton, where he lived and worked, not 'spring' like the season. I think it's a fair example... I think it's incredibly overpriced."

"I need it. Buy it, store it," He said over his shoulder and began walking to his room. He didn’t want to be later than he already was, never mind Rhodey was going to be angry all the same.

“Okay..." Pepper scribbled something down in her notebook and followed Tony. "The MIT commencement speech-"

"Is in June," Tony interrupted stopping. “Please, don't harangue me about that stuff."

"Well, they are haranguing me, so I'm gonna say yes…” his assistant gave him a smile jotting down another set of notes. “And one last thing to sign before you board your plane.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Tony whirled around, confused. He could confirm all of this after he came back, and he knew his PA very well knew that too. “Pepper, what are you trying to get rid of me for? What, you got plans?”

The brunette watched bemusedly as an amused look crossed her face. 

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Pepper replied shortly before motioning at her boss to sign the document she was holding out. 

A frown pulled down at the genius’s brows and he stifled the urge to pout. 

“I don’t like it when you have plans,” he muttered, grabbing the pen and quickly signing his name.

Tony immediately regretted saying that when the amused look on Pepper’s face only increased tenfold. 

“I'm allowed to have plans on my birthday,” his PA smiled, tucking the document back into her folder.

“It’s your birthday?” Tony was surprised, he remembered getting a diamond bracelet for her birthday though…

“Yes,” Pepper replied, her expression indicating that she already knew what was running through Tony’s mind. 

"I knew that. Already?" Tony frowned.

"Yeah, isn't that strange, it's the same day as last year." Pepper rolled her eyes, and something like acid burned in his chest -something much like regret.

"Well, get yourself something nice from me."

"I already did,” Pepper grinned, mischief clinging onto the lips’ curves.

"And?" Tony asked, his eyes crinkling with mirth and fondness. Of course she already got herself a gift, it’s Pepper. 

"Oh, it was very nice," Pepper nodded faux-seriously. "Very tasteful. Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"You're welcome, Ms. Potts," Tony said softly, eyes exposing the unbearable fondness he held for his PA- his friend. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Canon torture incident

The thought that maybe he should feel bad for Happy came to Tony as he saw his friend scramble to get his luggage with a red face, panting slightly from their race, but it was just too funny.

However, all the humor drained from his face as he noticed his fuming best friend glaring at him. The urge to just turn around and flee came to him and it was just so tempting, but by the look of Rhodey’s face, flight was not an option. 

Onto battle then. 

Praying to Mama Rhodes for her elder son to not kill her favourite child, Tony marched to his doom. 

“Three fucking hours!” Rhodey growled as Tony brushed past him into the plane with a wince. “You left me here waiting for  _ three _ hours!”

"I got caught doing a piece for Vanity Fair?” Tony cursed himself for making it sound like a question.

"For three hours?" Rhodey gave him a look that just screamed  _ Do I look like an idiot? _

“Yep," Tony said, collapsing onto his seat, Happy following Rhodey closely with two briefcases. "Let's go, c'mon. Wheels up, let's Rock and Roll!"

Rhodey sighed, taking the seat opposite his prankster of a best friend.

Fluffy and white clouds brushed against the plane windows with a hint of pink, reflecting from the sun depicting them like huge clumps candy flosses. 

Tony had always loved the sky. No matter what color it was -blue, red, pink or black- he had always loved the sky. He had never seen the stars though but they always had fascinated him. Countless blinking stars, coming to life and dying. Always shining brighter when they were about to die. 

When he was a kid, he had the same bad habit that he carried now. No matter how much he twisted or turned, his mind always kept whirring and Morpheus’s arms kept getting out of reach every time he gave up trying to sleep. On the quiet days, where his mind just was a thrumming machine, unable to shut down but not able to work either, he used to go to the mansion’s top floor, from where he could look at the sky. 

And… and his madre used to come and sit next to him, envelop him in a hug and just watch the stars with him.

Now she’s not here, and he just -he just missed the warmth she used to bring whenever she was there. 

“What are you reading, platypus?" Tony asked in an attempt to pull himself out of his thoughts as a stewardess laid out the cutlery. He propped his cheek onto his knuckles and watched the other man, trying to figure out Rhodey’s expression. 

"Nothing," Rhodey replied curtly and Tony knew he wasn’t really in irredeemable purgatory.

"Oh come on, Sour-patch! Don't be mad!" Tony cried, trying to pull out a reaction from the Colonel. 

"I told you I'm not mad, I'm indifferent. Okay?" 

Bullshit. 

Tony sighed as he noticed another stewardess coming down the aisle. 

"I said I was sorry.”

“Good morning, Mr. Stark," The stewardess smiled at Tony, leaning down to present the tray to the two men.

"No need to apologize," Rhodey began, his face completely saying the opposite. 

_ Man, he’s pissed _ .

"Hi, I said I was sorry," Tony gave the woman a grin before gesturing to his friend who audibly took a deep breath to control his temper. The stewardess smiled back, her eyes flickering to the Colonel. 

"I'm just indifferent right now," Rhodes repeated.

"Hot towel?" The stewardess asked, holding out a tray.

"Oh, yes please," Tony said, plucking one off the tray.

"-you don't respect yourself, so I know you don't respect me," Rhodey argued, gritting his teeth.

"I respect you," Tony disagreed. He truly did, it’s just, since Rhodey became Colonel and the liaison between Stark Industries and the US military, things had been different between them. He saw less and less of his brother and when they did get to meet it was about the business. That didn’t mean they didn’t have family time with Aunt Peggy, Hope and Sharon, they did have those but their relationship became more focused on weapon manufacturing. He did understand that the military was Rhodes’s dream but it still unsettled him. 

"You don't respect me, I'm just your babysitter and so, when you need your diaper changed," he paused to thank the lady who had just handed him a towel. “Let me know and I'll get you a bottle, okay?"

"Hey..." Tony said to the stewardess, completely ignoring Rhodey. "Heat up a sake, will you? Thanks for reminding me."

"No, I'm not drinking." Rhodey protested. "We're not drinking, we're working right now. And you are constitutionally incapable of being responsible."

The stewardess handed Tony some Sashimi while Rhodes spoke, irritation touching upon his tone. 

"It'd be irresponsible not to drink at this time," Tony retorted, motioning at the lady to bring the drinks. "I'm just talking about the night cup."

"Hot sake?" The stewardess from earlier asked.

"Yes, two please." Tony said before turning back to his brother, a small grin spreading across his face as he noticed the falter in Rhodey’s expression.

"No, just... I'm not drinking, I don't want any…” the colonel sighed and settled back into his seat. The billionaire gave a triumphant grin and watched out of the corner of his eyes as the stewardesses whispered to themselves before music flowed through the air and the lights dimmed. 

“Oh no,” his friend sighed defeatedly again and Tony let out a joyous laugh, throwing his head back, and watched as Rhodey took another big gulp.

  
  


—

  
  


Groups of soldiers surrounded him- scattered everywhere like torn paper in the wind, jeeps lined up behind one another and some shrinking out of sight as they kicked up dust. 

The land was dry under his feet, and the air warm and breezy. In contrast to the land he stood, behind him stood mountains tall and proud with air so still that a single breath of air seemed like it could cause mass destruction. 

The weapon manufacturer patted down his tie as a heavy breeze brushed past, before turning to look at his customers: the military. 

“Is it better to be feared or respected?” Tony asked, voice carrying across the wind and reaching those who had gathered for the weapons demonstration.

“I say, is it too much to ask for both? With that in mind, I humbly present the crown jewel of Stark Industries freedom line. It's the first missile system to incorporate our proprietary repulsor technology. They say the best weapon is one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to fire once. That's how dad did it," Tony smirked, this had been one of his latest projects and he took pride in being able to create a way to help the military - to help his country. 

“And that’s how America does it... and it's worked out pretty well so far. Find an excuse to let one of these off the chain, and I personally guarantee you the bad guys won't even want to come out of their caves." Tony waved at a soldier standing by the missile to activate it, and a mechanical humming began to resonate. 

All soldiers turned to watch the presentation they’d been waiting for. The missile was raised, and shot. It soared across the sky, piercing through the air and leaving a trail of white vapour behind.

In the air, the missile opened up its first layer of metal, and multiple other smaller but identical missiles dropped out of it and sailed through the air.

Heat flares were released with a high pitched whistle as the missiles closed onto the mountain slope.

"For your consideration, the Jericho missile,” Tony raised his arms with a flourish. Explosions erupted behind him and the soldiers were enveloped in a cloud of dust, the impact ripping off all of their hats right off their shaved heads. 

Tony stood proudly as the sound of applause surrounded him, unaware of the mass destruction and massacre his creation could bring. 

  
  


—

  
  


"Obie, what are you doing up?" Tony asked, confused as to why the man -Obadiah Stane- had called him. The bald man had been helping him run the company ever since his parents died. 

"I couldn't sleep till I found out how it went. How did it go?" The man inquired, his upper body visible through the phone screen. Tony grimaced slightly at the man’s shirtless chest before talking.

"Went great, looks like it'll be an early Christmas."

"Hey way to go, my boy. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" Obie grinned, showing teeth like some sort of mutated shark. 

“This is new, you don’t ask me-" Tony began, before being cut off.

"Good night, Tony."

Frowning, Tony slipped his phone into his pocket, weirded out by the elder man, and got into the car, a soldier shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, Tony." 

The billionaire leaned against the lowered window and looked at his friend.

"I'm sorry, but this is the fun-vee. The hum-drum-vee is back there."

The Colonel ignored him and continued, "Nice job.” 

Tony gave him a slight nod as the robust hum of the engine filled the air, acknowledging that his friend was complimenting him.

"See you back at base,” the brunette smiled, leaning back and watching his friend’s figure disappear from his sight as the windows rolled up. 

  
  


—

  
  


Someone was screaming, why were they screaming? Couldn’t they see the pain he was feeling? Why were they trying to make him feel worse? 

Everything hurt…

Tony screamed, again, his throat hoarse and numb like he had been screaming his heart out for days -and maybe he had, he didn’t know. All he knew was pain. 

They had cut his chest open. He had screamed at them to stop. They didn’t stop. They stuck needles in him. Again. And again. Blood had pooled in his mouth, dripped down his chin parallel to the blood pooling down his chest. 

White blinding pain ripped through his bones and he screamed again. 

Screamed and screamed. 

Screamed at them to stop. 

Screamed at them to stop hurting him.

Screamed at them to just kill him.

They didn’t. 

He fell limp as something heavy settled over his heart.

—

  
  


A gasp tore itself out of his lungs. He struggled to open his eyes, something dry was caked over his face and also his chest, he realized as he tried to inhale. 

A sharp jolt, pulling and pushing at his ribs and sending small bursts of electricity through his arteries, struck him. 

He swallowed dry and tried to inhale again softly. The air was thicker than he was used to, warm and dry. He tried to move his fingers, he could feel them but even as he tried he couldn’t move them.

His eyes slipped shut, exhaustion pulling him back to the dreamless oblivion and he relented easily - _ anything to escape the pain _ .

  
  


—

  
  


Soft, barely heard humming travelled across the air and Tony blinked awake. 

His bones felt so heavy. So numb and  _ tired _ . He wanted to go back to the dark again. To the peace. Instead he got up.

Fingers shook and grappled for  _ some _ purchase. His stomach pulled taut, trembled and his throat felt scratched out. Something heavy sat in his chest, and it  _ hurt.  _

He attempted to breathe. 

A cough wrecked through his bones, and his eyes watered. Blearily he opened his eyes again, everything was dark except for the little light bulb hanging over him. The air was cold and so thick, and it felt as though a hand was constricting his airway. Cutting off his way to breathe.

A tube, he found as the world finally stopped spinning, went up his nostril.

“Urgh,” he spluttered, eyes wide with shock and wet with pain. His hand pulled at it, and he winced feeling it slide out of himself. 

When the tube was finally out, Tony ripped off the tape stuck on his face and blinked away the tears. 

His throat felt like it was torn to shreds, and Tony coughed. He was on some sort of a cot. He shuffled forward and reached for the cup of water on the table in front of him but instead managed to knock it off the table. 

The brunette’s breath hitched and some sort of unnamed despair filled up within him as his hand shook and the water spilled on the uneven floor out of his reach. 

He leaned down, or tried to rather, when something tugged at his chest and Tony grunted, crippling pain shooting through his senses. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a low, gravelly voice said and Tony glanced up.

A man stood before him, his back facing Tony and he was shaving with a broken mirror shard. 

The man’s beady eyes flitted to Tony’s chest on the cracked mirror hanging on the wall. 

The breath knocked out of the billionaire and time almost seemed to stand still as he looked down at his chest, dread swirling in him.

A wire protruded out of his chest underneath layers of bandages. 

“No…” 

Hands clawed at his shirt, and Tony pulled off the dirty robe he was wrapped in before ripping off the bandages. 

“No,” horror crawled up his throat and clutched it with a vice grip. 

There was a magnet in his chest, and as tired brown eyes traced the wire they found an old car battery in the other end. Just looking at the magnet -its mouldy orange shade, its clunky bolts, its rusted exterior- fixed  _ into _ his chest made bile rise up his throat.

Dried blood caked over his chest, and even the simple motion of breathing hurt. The rusted metal dug into his flesh and pressed against his organs. 

“No…” the plea fell from his lips. 

A plea for this to not be real.

A plea for this to be a mere dream.

A plea that he was back with his family. 

A wasted plea. 

  
  


—

  
  


He felt numb. Everything seemed unreal. Like a dream -a nightmare. He was trapped in a dingy cave. His own weapon nearly killed him. A fate worse than death was thrust upon him. He was a hostage. His chest was sawed open. An electromagnet rested in his chest.

The man who had been shaving was kindling the fire while whistling a merry tune and Tony stared.

The man didn’t acknowledge the wrecked genius, and simply continued to kindle the fire after pushing his spectacles up his nose when they slipped down.

Tony curled his arms around him protectively and shuddered. He hated being vulnerable. He hated being a liability. He hated showing that he was vulnerable. He hated when others knew how long it took for him to scream in pain. He hated it.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Tony asked weakly, finger brushing against the magnet.

"What did I do? What I did was save your life," the man chuckled and looked at Tony. "I removed all the shrapnel I could, but there's a lot left in there. And it's headed into your atrial septum."

The billionaire’s face remained emotionless, and his eyes were blank as he processed what the man had said.

_ Atrial septum… _

_ His  _ **_heart_ ** _ … _

"Here, wanna see? I have a souvenir. Take a look,” the man showed Tony a glass bottle with tiny, sharp metal shards in it.

Shards from his own weapon.

The Merchant of Death destroyed by his own trade. The irony. 

"I have seen many injuries like that in my village," the man continued, voice nonchalant and relaxed. "We call them the walking dead, because it takes about a week for the shards to reach the vital organs.”

"What is this?" Tony asked, glancing down at the bulky metal in his chest.

"That is an electromagnet." The man replied. "Hooked up to a car battery, it's keeping the shrapnel from reaching your heart."

Tony shifted uncomfortably and stared down at his chest. He zipped up the jacket and eyed the camera placed in the corner of the cave nervously.

"That's right," the man said, following Tony's gaze. "Smile. We met once before, you know, at the technical conference in Bern."

"I don't remember,” Tony swallowed and leaned against the wall. 

"You wouldn't." The man snorted as if he had expected the response. "If I had been that drunk, I would not have been able to stand, much less give a lecture on integrated circuits."

"Where are we?" The brunette asked. He had been taken hostage, and that must have been for a reason. For him to know the reason he needed to know where they were.

The man opened his mouth but suddenly something opened with a loud clash. The man and Tony tensed, like a cat hunched up when faced with danger.

Raised voices were heard beyond the door in a different language, something that seemed vaguely Middle Eastern but Tony couldn't confirm his guess as the man pulled him to his feet in a hurry, fear encasing his eyes.

"Come on, stand up," the man hissed. "Stand up! Do as I do."

Tony stumbled to his feet and his vision swarmed. The metal in his chest pressed down hard into him and he gasped.

"Come on! Hands up!" The man ordered frantically and maneuvered the billionaire's arms. 

Metal doors creaked open, revealing a man and two armed soldiers. More armed soldiers with guns approached from the back.

"Those are my guns," Tony said, eyes widening. "How did they get my guns?"

A plump man in a coat raised his arms and said something in a different language.

He walked up to Tony and the shaving man, still speaking. Soldiers followed him, hands on their guns. As the man finished his sentence, only one word could be understood -Stark. The man looked Tony in the eye and continued speaking in a way one would speak a speech, or perhaps a lecture. His tone wasn't threatening, but not friendly either.

"He says welcome Tony Stark," the shaving man said, hands on his head. "The most famous mass murderer in the history of America, he is honored."

The man gestured to Tony with a white scroll in his hand. He wore a joyful smile that was very much out of place in that cold, dingy cave surrounded by weapons and blood.

The shaving man translated again, "he wants you to build a missile. The Jericho missile. That you demonstrated."

The man handed the shaving man the scroll he had been holding.

"This one." The shaving man unraveled the scrap of paper the man had given him and showed it to Tony.

Sure enough, it was the Jericho missile that Tony had demonstrated earlier at the Base.

Tony stared at it, hands still on his head. The man raised his eyebrows expectantly. Tony frowned.

"I refuse.”

The man stared at him.

  
  


—

  
  


Three days of torture.

Constant torture. 

They pushed his face under the running water. They starved him. Made sure that water hit the object saving his life and electrocuted him. They squeezed his throat. They hit him. Again and again. They kept him awake for three days, without a wink of sleep. 

They tortured him until he cracked.

Tony screamed as his body convulsed once more, electricity pulsing through it. The soldier holding him under the water pulled him back harshly by the hair. 

Tong gasped frantically, lungs struggling to inhale air. The screams of his family rang through his head, for him to  _ try.  _ To try to survive.

A sack was thrown over his head and the soldier tugged the collar of his torn shirt to get up. 

The brunette stumbled, grabbing the car battery before he was dragged forcefully, the battery lagging behind him.

  
  


—

  
  


Sunlight blinded him as the sack was ripped away from his head.

He blinked, eyes weary and struggling to understand what he was seeing.

The man who ordered the torture on him when he hadn’t agreed to their demand was in front of him, eyes gleaming gleefully. 

Tony shuddered as he was pushed down the ramp that led to the cave. He sucked in a terrified breath as he noticed what surrounded them -mountains, a small camp, straw and wooden stalls sheltering guns, grenades, missiles bombs, anything. Groups of people shouting in multiple languages (one which Tony recognized as Arabic) were mobbed around the stalls.

Tony slipped slightly as they walked down the hill, the weight of the car battery heavy in his arms. He swallowed, recognizing that they were still in some Middle Eastern part of Earth. The dry air whipped against his face as he looked around, trying to ignore the way the wind slunked through the device in his chest.

Stalls upon stalls surrounded them strategically in order for the soldiers to access without any trouble. The weapons had the horrifyingly familiar ‘Stark Industries’ logo imprinted on them on both sides.

Soldiers stopped what they were doing and stared at Tony, readying their guns. A soldier with a black bandana tied around his forehead bared his teeth at Tony. 

Here he’d receive no mercy. 

The billionaire stared at the pile of weapons,  _ his weapons _ , as he was led deeper into the camp by the plump bearded man. 

Dried blood covered Tony’s nape and a heavy tang of iron emanated from him. 

The soldier behind him pushed him forward once more before they came to a stop. A missile was in front of them; it was one of the biggest and newest line of weaponry. The bold logo of Stark Industries felt like a slap to Tony’s face.

The plump man who had ordered him to create the missile glowered at him. He shook his head slightly, and said something in Arabic. 

"He wants to... know what you think,” the man who had saved Tony translated and glanced at the brunette.

The genius looked at the man grimly and raised an eyebrow. 

"I think you got a lot of my weapons," He stated simply.

The man translated Tony’s words to the other. The plump man smirked arrogantly and replied loudly with confidence. He circled Tony forcing the billionaire to turn around to face him. The man who had been shaving the night before remained expressionless apart from the strong glare he sported.

"He says, uh, they have everything you need to build the Jericho missile," the man held prisoner with Tony translated. "He wants you to make the list of materials. He says for you to start working immediately, and when you're done, he will set you free."

The man raised his brows at Tony as if he expected him to accept it, because there's no way you could refuse this. He held out his hand with a grin, which Tony took with a forced smile.

"No he won't," He said through gritted teeth to the face of the man who had tortured him without blinking the slightest. 

"No he won't,” The man with spectacles confirmed, face grim.

The man seemed oblivious and beamed at his translator and Tony with a nod.

  
  


—

  
  


Soldiers watched the ordeal from a distance. A man with several rings piercing through his ears eyed the two like a hawk. He didn't smile in victory as the plump man did. Instead he looked quite contemplative. 

  
  


—

  
  


Tony and the translator huddled close to the small fire they had lit. Their shadows danced across the rocky walls and the crackle of fire gave the place noise.

The brunette stared at the burning red flares, face stoic and eyes dark. 

"I'm sure they're looking for you, Stark," the spectacled man said impassively and leaned against the wall, wrapping a blanket tightly around himself.

Tony was wearing a dark hoodie and a beanie, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, yet none seemed to bring back the warmth to his expression.

Tony kept his silence, waiting for the spectacled man to finish.

"But they will never find you in these mountains,” when Tony said nothing again, the man sighed. "Look... what you just saw... that is your legacy, Stark. Your life's work, in the hands of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out? Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark? Or are you gonna do something about it?"

"Why should I do anything?" Tony muttered, staring straight ahead. The words were barely audible, but they echoed the despair that swarmed him. There wasn’t anything he could do… they were right, everything he touched somehow he ruined. He put everyone in danger, he had for years.  _ Why should he do anything when everything he did made things worse?  _

"They're gonna kill me, you... either way, if they don't... I'll probably be dead in a week anyway.”

"Well then," the spectacled man looked at Tony, a slight smile playing on his lips. "This is a very important week for you, isn't it?"

Tony stared at the fire, only this time, his eyes reflected the embers he was staring at, instead of the cold hopelessness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all like the chapter!

Soldiers walked along the musky cavern corridors carrying equipment, materials and tools. Anything that Tony needed. Anything Tony asked for.

"If this is gonna be my workstation, I want it well lit, I want all of these tools. Welding gear, I don't care if it's acetylene or propane. I need a soldering station, I need helmets, I need goggles, I would like a smelting cup. I need two sets of precision tools,” Tony ordered, a steely glint in his eyes and back straight. 

The man who nearly gave up was gone and in his place stood Tony Stark -the son of Howard Stark, Maria Stark and Peggy Carter. The leader and the prodigy.

Outside the cave, the climate was very dusty and warm, which was rather strange as there were snowy mountains earlier.

A Stark Industries missile laid on the working table. Tony, wearing gloves with the fingers cut off, carefully screwed down a screw.

"How many languages do you speak?" He asked the spectacled man, eyes not leaving the missile even once.

"A lot,” he replied. "But apparently not enough for this place. They speak arabic, urdu, dari, pashto, mongolian, farsi, russian."

Tony slid the explosive out of its casing carefully as the spectacled man watched him, eyes curious. 

“Who are these people?"

"They are your loyal customers. They call themselves  _ The Ten Rings _ ."

The brunette shot the other man a look, eyebrows raised, and pulled something out of the explosive.

"You know, we might be more productive if you include me in the planning process?" The spectacled man drawled and leaned against the work table, watching the innovator work.

"Uh huh," Tony said, sliding his entire arm up an enormous green bomb, heart thudding despite the smirk he wore. This was a dangerous process regardless of how casual he acted.

This was their only chance of escaping without acquiescing to the terrorists’ demands and dying. 

This was their only chance of survival.

It may not work, but he needed to start on something.

The Arc Reactor. 

  
  


—

  
  


"Careful, careful," Tony intoned as the man brought the scalding hot liquid palladium base over to where the skeleton of the Miniature Arc Reactor was. "We've only got one shot at this,"

"Relax, I've got steady hands,” The man reassured. "Why do you think you're still alive, huh?"

At the man’s attempt at reassuring him, Tony felt a smile twitch at his lips. The man began pouring the liquid cautiously into the skeleton.

"What do I call you?" Tony asked, realizing that he didn’t know, as he watched the liquid intently.

"My name is Yinsen," the man smiled after a pause, brimming with surprise. The liquid set into the skeleton perfectly and Tony sighed, relieved.

"Yinsen…” The brunette allowed a smile to overtake his face and held out a hand for the other to shake. “Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too.”

  
  


—

  
  


Tony worked carefully without hesitation as he pressed a small tool to a circular metal shape. 

He then carefully pressed the same tool to another thinner slit of metal he was holding in his hand. 

Yinsen sat before him, silent and solemn as he admired the inventor’s work. 

Tony continued to work, eyebrows furrowed with concentration, brown eyes alight with determination. 

Suddenly a familiar blue glow began to hum, illuminating Tony's face with a soft blue light.

Tony stared down at his work and licked his lips. His face was unreadable, impossible to tell whether or not he was pleased.

The Arc Reactor was born. Now onto their escape. 

—

  
  


"Shesh Besh," Tony muttered, rolling his dice. After a tiring day they had decided to play some rounds of an Arabic Board Game before resting. 

"Good roll," Yinsen said and glanced at Tony with an amused look. "Good roll."

A small part of Tony can't help but think about how the situation paralleled the time he was playing at the casino. 

"You still haven't told me where you're from," Tony said, eyes dark with curiosity. 

"I'm from a small town called Gulmira," the man replied, a look on his face as he watched Tony. 

“It's actually a nice place," he continued, looking at the board as if he realized something.

"You got a family?" Tony asked.

"Yes," Yinsen replied. "And I will see them when I leave here."

"And you, Stark?"

Tony looked up from the board game. Feelings that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel rising and engulfing him. 

Fear whether he would live to see them again.

Fear whether  _ they _ were alive.

Fear whether they have given up on him or not.

"Nothing?" Yinsen asked, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown. 

Aunt Peggy’s face swam to his mind.

Her fierce and  _ strong _ words rang in his ears.

His brother’s face came to his mind.

His hugs and proud smile made his heart warm.

Pepper’s face came to his vision.

Her constant worry for his safety comforted him.

His sister, Hope’s face swam to his vision.

Her mischievous smirk and encouragement made his chest lighter.

His  _ family _ came before his eyes.

Tony slammed a silver circle down on the board.

"Yes." 

It was barely a whisper.

"Oh?" Yinsen raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Just thinking about his family brought this light to his eyes. Everything became brighter when he thought about them. They made him brighter. “A stubborn pack running purely on spite.” 

“You love them,” Yinsen observed and a hint of smile curled at his lip. 

“More than anything,” huffed out Tony with a chuckle. “Anything in the universe.”

  
  


—

  
  


They needed to act fast.

Raza, the man who led the Ten Rings, was already suspicious of them. One wrong move could be their last. It was a dangerous game, but when the stakes were high you can’t overthink it. 

They only had mere seconds before the guards noticed and came rushing in like a wave of lava trying to scorch anything in its way. 

Yinsen -brave and clever Yinsen- screwed the last piece and the chest piece clicked into place. Tony winced as a slight pain flared in the middle of his chest.

“Okay?”

“Yes,” Tony nodded, the light from the fire dancing in his eyes.

“You can move?” The spectacled man asked, taking a step back.

“Yes,” The billionaire intoned, they needed to be quick. No time to waste. 

“Alright, then.”

  
  


—

  
  


Thundering footsteps neared them, yelling in a language that neither of them knew. The suit was not assembled yet. Yinsen looked up at his friend, panic written clearly on his face. 

“Say something!”

“He’s speaking hungarian!’ Yinsen shook his head, scrambling to finish the code.

“Then speak hungarian!”

Yinsen scoffed, punched in the necessary codes and looked up at his friend once again, seeking answers. 

“Okay, what do you know?” Tony, taller in the suit of heavy armour, asked. His voice was calm, unlike Yinsen’s. Tony glanced at the metal door, hoping that his plan worked as trepidation filled him. 

_ BAM _

The door blasted open.

  
  


—

  
  


“I’m going to buy more time,” Tony didn’t like the look in his friend’s eyes. Yinsen’s eyes were narrowed in a way that indicated sheer determination and when the brown eyes blinked at him for a moment with resignation written in them, Tony  _ knew.  _

He knew that Yinsen had already expected this. 

“No,” Tony cried, the information that he had gained yet to be processed. “Stick to the plan, Yinsen.”

Yinsen ignored Tony’s frantic calls and grabbed a gun from the ground. 

“STICK TO THE PLAN YINSEN!” Tony screamed, fear curling in his gut. “YINSEN!”

The bittersweet smile that lingered on Yinsen’s face was the last thing Tony registered before Yinsen ran out of the cave.

  
  


—

  
  


The iron armour proved to be what he needed. 

None were left alive in its wake. 

An act fit for the Merchant of Death, a cruel voice said in the back of his mind and Tony shoved it down aggressively. 

He entered a room, the metal armour clanking ominously against the ground. 

“No,” A vine contracted around Tony’s chest and he felt the air leave him. “ _ No. _ ”

The bloody form of his friend laid over a pile of sandbags greeted his vision, he was still breathing. He was still breathing though the agony that consumed him. He was still breathing, waiting for his friend. Waiting for Tony.

“Yinsen!”

Tired brown eyes flitted to him, and a warning fell from his friend’s lips.

“Watch out!”

Tony whipped around and swiftly dodged the missile fired at him. Raza grinned at him, eyes burning with hate and he reached to shoot another. 

It was a quick thing and before he knew it, Tony had shot his own set of missiles at the ceiling over Raza and collapsed it on him. 

A gasp tore itself out of his dying friend and Tony kneeled, the clang echoing through the cavern, and removed his helmet hurriedly. 

“Stark,” coughed Yinsen, pained. Blood flowed freely from where the man was shot on the shoulder.

“C’mon, get up Yinsen,” the plea spilled from the brunette’s lips and he stared imploringly at his friend. “We have a plan, stick to the plan!”

_ Please get up, I can’t lose you… _

_ Please… _

“This,” a cough wrecked itself out of the spectacled man and he reached out for Tony. “This was always the plan, Stark.”

“ _ No,”  _ Tears sprung to his eyes but Tony refused to let them fall. “You’re going to see your family again.”

“My family,” gasped Yinsen. “Is dead. I’m going to see them now, Stark.”

_ Yinsen… _

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” and a hysterical laugh wanted to tear itself out of his mouth as the dying man reassured him. “I want this.”

“Thank,” Tony stuttered and a lone tear slid down his cheek. “Thanks for saving me.”

A smile twitched the dying man’s lips and his fingers brushed against Tony’s cheek gently, as if saying  _ don’t forget me. _

“Don’t… don’t waste it,” a shuddering gasp and the air slowly left Yinsen’s lungs. “Don’t waste your life.”

—

  
  


Relief poured through his arteries and Tony sagged down onto the sand. A hysterical laugh tore itself out of his lips and Tony leaned down on his forearms. 

He heard yelling and the loud hum of engines. 

“Hey,” someone - _ no, his brother _ \- kneeled before him. He wanted to cry, but tears wouldn’t leave his eyes. “How was the fun-vee?”

Tony glanced up and seeing the worried face of his brother was enough to bring a smirk to his lips.

Something Rhodey noticed as well. A broken huff, filled with  _ so much  _ emotion, left Rhodey and he grasped Tony’s shoulder as if he’d disappear the moment he took his eyes off him. 

“Next time,” Rhodey’s voice broke. “Next time, you ride with me alright?”

Tony couldn't even manage to shake his head before he was pulled into his brother’s embrace- _ not that he was complaining. _ He sank into his brother’s arms willingly and clung onto him.

They sat there, he didn’t know how long but they  _ just _ sat there, wrapped around each other.

  
  


—

  
  


“Are you kidding me with this?” Tony shot his brother a look, as if he couldn’t fathom that Rhodey even entertained the idea of Tony willingly going to a hospital. 

“Right,” the colonel shook his head and dismissed the stretcher waiting for them. It’s not as if he could stop Tony from doing whatever he wanted (not that he wanted to, all he wanted was to hold his little brother safely in his arms).

The brunette, donned in a smart suit and having no signs of his imprisonment except for the cast on his arm, walked down the plane ramp.

A little way from the ramp two women stood, both standing straight and obviously holding back tears. 

Tony stepped closer, Rhodey behind him in a subconscious move of protection, a small smile blooming on his face. 

Small and broken. 

“Hey,” his voice struggled to get past his throat.

“Antonio,” there was this overwhelming and unadulterated  _ relief _ in her voice, her brown eyes blinking back tears and her hand raised halfway towards Tony but pausing as if it would hurt her godson. 

“Zia Peggy,” Tony managed to get out thickly before wrapping his uninjured arm around her. Aunt Peggy’s hands trembled as she embraced her Antonio. It had been a long three months. 

After a few minutes, though it seemed more like hours, Antonio broke away with a smirk on his face.

“Didn’t realize you’d miss me to this extent Aunt Peg,” he teased, the familiar nature of their relationship seeping back into them.

Peggy scoffed, a secret smile curving her lips and her brown eyes gleaming with mischief. 

“Not more than that one,” she nodded at Pepper who was standing at their side, eyes red and a wobbly smile on her face. 

“Oh?” Tony turned to his friend, an eyebrow raised in intrigue. “Your eyes are red, few tears for your long lost boss?”

“Tears of joy,” Pepper smiled. “I hate job hunting.”

“Yeah,” he huffed amused and brushed past her to the car. “Vacation’s over.”

As he neared the car, with Pepper and Aunt Peggy flanking him, Tony saw Happy standing in front of it.

“Hi Happy,” Tony nodded, a lock of hair falling into his face and a small smile playing on his lips.

“Boss,” Happy’s eyes scanned Tony, as if they were making sure he was alive and well. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise Hogan,” and that was that. With another nod Happy opened the doors for them before climbing into the driver’s seat.

  
  


—

  
  


“I want you to call for a press conference,” Tony narrowed his eyes, his tone firm. “Now.”

He needed to do it. His whole life he had been doing the wrong thing. His whole life he had been promoting massacre. He  _ needed  _ to do it. 

“Antonio,” the steady and grounding voice of Peggy pulled Tony from his thoughts. She looked at him with a chatising look in her eyes, and Tony instinctively slouched in his seat. “You know better than this. Whatever you’re going to do,  _ plan it first. _ ”

“But this is important-” Tony paused, she was right wasn’t she?  _ It was important.  _

“All the more reason to plan it,” Peggy smiled seeing the realization in her son’s eyes. “We’re here to help, you don’t need to do this alone.”

At her reassurance, Tony relaxed.

_ Yeah, he could plan. _

  
  


—

  
  


“Did Hope call?” Peggy asked from where she was leaning over the sofa, a soft frown pulling down her eyebrows as she watched Tony tweak with the skeleton of his new arc reactor.

“Mm?” Tony hummed, crossing out something on his writing pad and looking up. “Yeah, last night.”

Peggy hummed in return, watching her godson’s face glow with fondness. He adorned his sister, it wasn’t that much of a surprise that just her name itself pulled a reaction such as this. 

“You’re modifying the arc reactor?” She eyed the writing pad littered with equations and the skeleton in his hands curiously.

“Yeah-”

The door slammed open, and two sets of footsteps echoed throughout the mansion. Peggy raised an eyebrow, intrigued -only a few had access to the mansion, and the angry clicks and the subdued thumps following behind revealed who they were.

“Turn on the news!” Was the first thing out of the strawberry blonde’s mouth as she stormed into the room. 

Rhodey trailed into the room behind her, a similar troubled expression adorning his face. He gave a strained smile to Peggy before rounding the sofa and taking the seat next to Tony.

“What?”

“The TV, JARVIS can you turn on the TV?”

The soothing lilt of the AI replied with a confirmation and the TV in front of them came to life.

**_[It’s a press conference and the obnoxiously large name displayed behind the podium made it clear on whose behalf it was. The logo of STARK INDUSTRIES splayed across the banner and before it stood Obidiah Stane, showing teeth to the pack of hungry press._ **

**_“-and as I’ve already said, Tony is perfectly alright, a little bit scratched but he’s healthy as ever-”]_ **

“What…?” 

Brown eyes stared at the screen, a soft buzzing encompassed his ears and his brain reeled from shock.

The fuming look on Pepper’s and the conflicted expression on Rhodey’s faces made sense now.

“I wasn’t informed of this,” said Pepper, sinking down onto the sofa, suddenly exhausted as all the anger left her.

Silence hung over the room, heavy and constricting. Eyes glanced at one another -anxious, confused, conflicted, contemplative and betrayed.

“Antonio,” began Peggy slowly, voice low and eyes staring at the bald man consideringly. “What was it that you wanted to do?”

“I am going to shut down the Weapon Manufacturing Department.”

“What?” Pepper spluttered, her eyes expressing her incredulity clearly.

“I said I’m going to shut it down,” Tony snapped and he got to his feet, eyes narrowed, daring anyone to argue with him. 

“Where do we start?” Peggy questioned, a tilt to her lips suggesting her pride. 

“I’m going to talk to the Board tomorrow,” Tony grabbed the writing pad and the arc reactor skeleton, making his way out of the room.

“Where are you going now?”

“The Workshop.”

—

  
  


“Don’t ever ask me to do that, ever again!”

“Well, who else can I ask?”

  
  


—

  
  


The press conference went just the way they wanted. It was important to not show the public the increasing fracture in the company due to Obadiah. Persuading the Board to shift their focus from weapons to clean energy, technology and the medical field was easier than they had expected. Once they had heard about the evolution of arc reactor tech, they were all in. Besides, even if they hadn't initially wanted to cave, Tony wasn’t known as the one of the youngest businessmen in the world for nothing. He knew how ruthless the business world was and he  _ had  _ been trained for it since childhood. He knew how to use his words and he knew how to get what he wanted.

By the end of that day, the official statement from Stark Industries about the shutdown of the department that brought in nearly half of their revenue spread throughout the world like wildfire.

A new era was about to begin.

  
  


—

  
  


"You know, we've been approached already by the DOD, the FBI, the CIA-"

"-we are a separate division, with a more specific focus. We need to debrief Mr. Stark about the circumstances of his escape."

"I'll put something in the book, shall I?" 

"Thank you.”

—

  
  


"We're IronMongers, we make weapons-”

“And it’s  _ my  _ name on the side of the building.”

  
  


—

  
  


"This... is not for the military... I'm not... it's different..."

"What are you, humanitarian now or something?" 

"I need you to listen to me," 

"What you need is time to get your mind right. I'm serious."

"Okay.” 

"It's nice seeing you, Tony."

His brother had changed. This was not the person who used to break the rules to make sure Tony was alright. This was not the person who shared his mother with Tony. This wasn’t the person who promised Tony to always be by his side.

  
  


—

  
  


"JARVIS, you up?" Tony asked, entering his workshop with a smoothie in his hand (one that wasn’t brewed by DUM-E, he didn’t want to die- thank you very much). 

"For you sir, always," The AI replied, bringing the computers to life. Tony paused, lips curling into a small smile at his confidant. He shot an appreciative glance at the nearest camera and took a seat.

"I'd like to open a new project file, index as Mark II."

"Shall I store this on the Stark Industries' central database?" JARVIS asked as Tony pulled a design that was of the Mark I across the two screens that hovered over his desk, before dragging it onto the holographic table surface. The blue light emanating out of the table’s surface lit up the 3D structure of Mark I.

"I don't know who to trust right now J,” Tony sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair and staring at the screen- the way Obidiah had lied to everyone came to his mind. “Till further notice, why don't we just keep everything on my private server." 

"Working on a secret project, are we sir?"

Tony began taking apart the structure gently, lips pursed and a contemplative look in his eyes.

“I don’t want this winding up in the wrong hands,” he finally uttered, eyes flicking to the visible camera on the wall nearest to him."Maybe in mine it could actually do some good."

  
  


—

  
  


A rather large group of men bent down, hands scouring through the sand, searching for something. In the distance, a truck filled with metal scraps waited.

One man dug deeper and pulled out a small sheet of metal. He held it up, sand falling like a waterfall from its holes.

The Mask.

—

  
  


DUM-E whirred and extended his arm. 

"Stay put,” Tony shifted in his chair. “Nice..."

DUM-E whirred again and the brunette’s lips twitched. He shot his robot child (as Zia Peggy had affectionately coined his robots) a look before huffing.

"And you, you're no better at it at all. Lift... I got it."

DUM-E whirred once again, this time slightly irritated. 

"Okay, I'm sorry, am I in your way?" Tony raised an eyebrow as DUM-E gave another whir and bumped into his leg. 

Smoke spiraled off the mechanical boot both of them were working on and dissipated into the air.

"Up,” Tony squinted at the boot. “That's great, don't even move."

DUM-E whirred and beeped indignantly and the brunette didn’t fight against the urge to snort.

"You... are a tragedy..."

  
  


—

  
  


“I've been buzzing you, did you not hear the intercom?" Pepper asked, heels clicking against the floor as she entered the workshop.

"Yeah, everything's... what?" The brunette blinked blearily. 

“Tony,” Pepper sighed and glanced over her shoulder before entering the room further. An anxious look taking hold of her features. “Obadiah is here.”

The billionaire froze, the hand encased in the flight stabiliser twitching.

“You’ve let him in?” He asked without looking at her and continuing to fiddle with the contraption around his arm.

Pepper shook her head, before stepping forward curiously.

“No I didn't,” she said. “He’s waiting by the door.”

“Great, I’m coming up,” Tony shook his head, a vague idea on what was about to follow forming in his mind.

“I thought you’ve stopped making weapons.”

"It isn't," Tony replied. "This is a flight stabiliser. It's completely harmless."

  
  


—

  
  


“You didn’t tell me that you talked with the board?” Were the first words out of Obadiah’s mouth as soon as Tony had entered the room.

“I didn’t think I’d need to,” the billionaire said, grabbing the water bottle and taking a sip all the while eyeing the bald man carefully.

“Tony…” Obadiah sighed as if he was disappointed and Tony gripped the bottle. The man got up and trudged to the bar.

He offered the drink he had poured to Tony, while holding another cup to his chest. 

“No, thanks Obie,” Tony leaned against the sofa and watched as Obadiah frowned before putting it on the counter.

“Hey, hey Tony - listen,” Tony raises an eyebrow to let the older man know that he was listening. "The decision you made is going to really affect the company and I’m trying to turn it around, but you gotta give me something!"

Tony stared at the older man as he continued to talk, "Something to pitch 'em!"

Obadiah glanced down and pointed at Tony's chest, nearly poking the arc reactor with a finger.

"Let me have the engineers analyze that, you know, draw some specs," Obie said, eyes meeting Tony’s eagerly.

"No."

"Gimme-"

"No! Absolutely not! This one stays with me!" Tony stated firmly through Obadiah's protesting splutters. “You can go now Obie, I know what to do with my company.”

  
  


—

  
  


"For lack of a better option, DUM-E is still on fire watch," Tony shot a glare at the robot. "If you douse me again, and I'm not on fire, I am donating you to a city college."

DUM-E whirred as if to say ‘no you won’t’.

  
  


—

  
  


"Sir, there are still terabytes of calculations needed before an actual flight!" JARVIS protested, a hint of irritation seeping into his voice.

"JARVIS..." Tony said in an almost scolding tone, his lips stretched into a gleeful grin. "Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk."

  
  


—

  
  


Tony snatches the cup of coffee from where it sat atop a parcel, wrapped in a plain brown sheet. He didn’t seem to notice the parcel at first, it was only after he was halfway across the workshop that he noticed it. 

He paused, curiosity blooming in his chest and he set down his cup of cold coffee ( _ it was still caffeine!) _ . 

The memory of his strawberry blonde friend dropping the parcel off when she had come to inform him of Obadiah flashed before his vision.

If that hadn’t been a clear indicator of whom the parcel was from, the yellow post-it note stuck atop it with the elegant scribble of ‘From Pepper’ made it crystal clear.

An eyebrow raised of its own accord and the brunette’s lips twitched with bemusement. He carefully peeled off the sheet, the post-it note finding its place on Tony’s worktable.

When the brown paper slipped down, the soft and luminous glow of his arc reactor lit up the room. It was his  _ old _ one. The one he had told her to throw away. A ring surrounded it, “PROOF THAT TONY STARK HAS A HEART” inscribed on it proudly. The protective glass box sealing it reflected the surprised face of Tony Stark. 

His fingers twitched and he raised his hand to softly brush against the glass, the creases around his eyes fading away to reveal the tenderness that lay underneath. 

A smile, a small one, tugged at Tony’s lips. Not that arrogant smirk that everyone knew him for, no. This was a true one. A true smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And ta-da! The last chapter!

  
"The render is complete." JARVIS announced. 

"A little ostentatious, don't you think?" 

"What was I thinking? You're usually so discreet."

"Tell you what... throw a little hot rod red in there."

"Yes, that will help you keep a low profile."

  
  


—

  
  


"You look fantastic, I didn't realize it was you."

"What are you doing here?" 

"Just avoiding government agents," Tony said casually, glancing behind him.

"Are you by yourself?" Pepper asked, back straight with anxiousness.

"Yes. Where'd you get that dress?" The brunette asked, eyes tracing the glimmering blue chromatic dress Pepper that donned appreciatively.

"Oh, it was a birthday present.”

"That's great."

"From you, actually."

"Well, I got great taste.”

"Yes," Pepper agreed, tilting her head to hide the amused smile that twitched her lips.

"You wanna dance?" Tony asked, gesturing to the dance floor where multiple couples were slowly dancing together.

"Oh, no,” Pepper shook her head, a conflicted look taking on her expression along with the aforementioned anxiousness. "Thank you.”

"All right," Tony nodded, his toes fidgeted in his fancy shoes and he exhaled. He understood why Pepper didn’t want to, the hate she received for being his PA was enough to bury a mountain. He understood that being seen dancing with one’s boss would definitely damage one’s reputation. He had heard the things some people say about Pepper and it made him so angry. Pepper had gotten her position by being competent. She was clever, she was confident, she handled the stress of the job, she knew to learn from him (despite how he acted, he actually was born into the role as the Stark Heir), she wasn’t afraid to stand up to point out what's wrong and she was loyal. 

“I’ll… I’m just going to get a drink,” he smiled at her. “Enjoy the rest of the night Pep.”

  
  


—

  
  


“Is this what you call accountability? It's a town called Gulmira. Heard of it?" 

The photographs in his hands felt heavy, along with his soul.

"When were these taken?" 

"Yesterday."

"I didn't approve any shipment."

"Well, your company did." 

"Well, I'm not my company."

  
  


—

  
  


“Tony. Who do you think hid this from you?” Obadiah smiled charmingly at the reporters before leaning in closer to Tony's ear. Tony's face was set stone cold, but his eyes were ablaze with rage and betrayal. “It was the only way I could protect you.”

  
  


—

  
  


Tony stared at the retreating figure of the man who he had trusted once. Bodyguards, the SI logo printed discreetly on their collars, weaved through the crowd, forming a protective circle around Obadiah Stane. 

Cameras flashed and the cries of photographers to pose for them were drowned out like he was underwater.

Tony stood on the red carpet, alone, with only Christine behind him. 

  
  


—

  
  


_**["Villagers have been forced to take shelter in whatever crude dwellings they can find in the ruins of other villages, or here in the remnants of an old Soviet smelting plant."** _

_**The interior of an old abandoned warehouse came into view, smoke still rising from the old machinery. Gunshots were heard and the view changed to show insurgents running, carrying machine guns and shooting at an unknown enemy.** _

_**"Recent violence has been attributed to a group of foreign fighters, referred to by locals as the Ten Rings."** _

_**An arabic man recognized as Raza appeared on the screen, smoking a cigarette casually as he watched the gunfight unfold like it was naught but a daily occurance -and it probably was.** _

_**"As you can see, these men are heavily armed and on a mission; a mission that could prove fatal to anyone who stands in their way. With no political will or international pressure, there's very little hope for these refugees. Around me, a woman is begging for news on her husband, who was kidnapped by insurgents, either forced to join their militia..."]** _

The drone of the television faded into the background. A buzz sounded in his ears, getting louder and louder with each passing second, ripping his conscience apart.

Tony stared at the TV screen, almost detachedly, except for the growing darkness in his eyes… the chilling cold that clung to them showed his anger.

He was furious.

He was so fucking furious.

Furious that this was happening.

Furious that it was his weapons.

Furious that it was his fault.

Furious that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

So furious.

Tony threw the screwdriver in his hand hard, anger burning his nerves. This was his fault. The faces of the people suffering repeated in his mind again and again. He raised his hand towards the target set in the corner of the room, the voice of the woman begging for the release of her husband ringing in his ears.

The blaster, fixed on his arm, whirred and prepared for use. Tony activated it and stumbled backwards from the powerful recoil, sparks exploding everywhere. 

Tony walked towards his target, expressionless. The voice of the reporter who was talking about orphans in Gulmira and refugees desperate for anyone who would save them echoed in Tony’s ears as he listened, head bowed and face void of expression. 

His fault…

The genius looked up, catching sight of his own reflection in the glass. Something ugly and destructive bubbled in his like black tar- hatred. 

Tony raised his blaster and shot at one of the windows containing his reflection, twisting around to avoid the shattering glass. Dark satisfaction curled in his stomach, but it wasn’t enough. Twin reflections of him stared back from the remaining windows, and Tony raised his hand again, fire burning in his eyes and teeth bared.

—

  
  


“He's all yours,” Tony's metallic voice came through the Iron Armour for the first time since he had zoomed to Gulmira to save the people. 

The boy who clung to his father’s arms, stared at him and Tony swallowed seeing gratefulness reflected in those eyes. The woman was sobbing, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks, and their daughter hid her face in her father’s chest. 

The other civilians, refugees and survivors rounded the plump man who the ironclad hero had dragged out. After all the pain, all the suffering they had been through… they finally got the chance to be free. 

Tony nodded slightly before blasting his repulsors and zipped away.

  
  


—

  
  


"Hello?" 

"Tony?" 

"Who's this?" 

"It's Rhodes."

"Sorry, hello?" 

"I said it's Rhodes." 

"Speak up, please.”

"What the hell is that noise?" 

"Oh, yeah, I'm driving with the top down."

"Yeah well, I need your help right now."

"It's funny how that works, huh?" 

"Yeah. Speaking of funny, we've got a weapons depot that was just blown up a few clicks from where you were being held captive." 

"Well, that's a, uh, that's a hot spot. Sounds like someone stepped in and did your job for you, huh?”

"Why do you sound out of breath, Tony?"

"I'm not, I was just jogging in the canyon.”

"I thought you were driving."

"Right, I was driving, uhh, to the canyon, where I'm going to jog."

"You sure you don't have any tech in that area I should know about?"

"Nope!"

"Okay, good, 'cause I'm staring at one right now and it's about to be blown to kingdom come."

  
  


—

  
  


"Hey!" Tony exclaimed, forehead pinching together. "Ow! Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah."

The familiar whirring of DUM-E cut in, sounding slightly amused and sympathetic.

"It is a tight fit, sir,” JARVIS stated in response as Tony continued fidgeting, each tug of the armor from his body inflicting a slight discomfort.

Tony groaned as a tinge of pain shot through him.

"Sir, the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt,” JARVIS admonished, even though Tony perfectly heard the sympathetic gleam it carried. 

"Be gentle, this is my first time,” Tony scowled at the camera fixed in the corner of the workshop. 

"I designed this to come off, so… OW! Hey!" The billionaire scolded U. "I really should be able to..." 

"Please, try not to move, sir." JARVIS said, slightly pityingly when Tony tugged at his arm.

JARVIS and the bots had finally removed the arm plate and had moved to his right leg when a curt and pointed cough sounded behind him.

The brunette froze, like a deer caught in headlights and stared at the camera. Butterfingers beeped and then backed away slowly from her creator.

The genius turned around, heart in his throat and a sheepish smile on his lips. Behind him stood two of the most important women in his life, both noticeably unimpressed.

Ouch.

Zia Peggy had an eyebrow raised, her brown eyes boring. Behind her stood Pepper, her startlingly intense eyes glaring at him and her arms crossed.

"Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing,” Tony said sheepishly, his right leg still being held up by DUM-E, who whirred in what seemed to be laughter. Of course it was DUM-E, Zia Peggy’s favourite bot grandchild who dared to speak in her angry presence.

Traitor, Tony scowled at his bot child.

“Are those bullet holes?” Pepper finally asked, horror seeping through her voice. 

  
  


—

  
  


After Pepper had, predictably, given Tony an earful about him risking his life in five different octave levels, the three of them sat in the kitchen, silence hanging over them.

Tony, also predictably, sat on the counter, watching the two women apprehensively. 

“Why must all Starks be like this?” Peggy sighed, rubbing her thumb against her wedding ring. Even though it was obvious that she was acutely exasperated, the underlying pride rang across the kitchen clear as the sky.

  
  


—

  
  


“You made us trinkets to kill a prince.”

"Show me the weapon.”

"Come on. Leave your guards outside."

Obadiah raised a hand to signal to his guards that all was good, before following Raza, the insurgents watching his every move warily. 

  
  


—

  
  


“His escape bore unexpected fruit." 

Obadiah stood in front of the suit - Mark I - crossing his arms with an impressed smile. 

"So this is how he did it."

"This is only a first, crude effort. Stark has perfected his design. He has made a masterpiece of death.” 

Obadiah circled the suit, admiring it with a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"A man with a dozen of these can rule Asia," Raza stated. "And you dream of Stark's throne." 

"We have a common enemy." Raza offered, sitting down, a sly smile playing on his lips."If we are still in business, I will give you these designs as a gift."

Stane's fingers traced the hole in the chest plate where the arc reactor belonged ominously.

  
  


—

  
  


"Set up Sector 16 underneath the arc reactor, and I'm gonna want this data masked. Recruit our top engineers,” Obadiah ordered. "I want a prototype right away."

  
  


—

  
  


“You stood by my side all these years while I reaped the benefits of destruction. And now that I'm trying to protect the people I put in harm's way you're going to walk out?

“You're going to kill yourself Tony. I'm not going to be a part of it.”

“I shouldn't be alive. Unless it was for a reason. I'm not crazy Pepper. I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart, that it's right.”

“You're all I have too, you know.”

  
  


—

  
  


Obadiah stared at the retreating figure of Tony’s PA, agitation firing through his nerves. As soon as the strawberry blonde had disappeared from view he scrambled to the computer.

**[Download Complete]**

Stane swore and banged his fist against the table, a dark look entering his eyes. They needed to speed things up.

  
  


—

  
  


“Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!”

“Well, I'm sorry. I'm not Tony Stark.”

  
  


—

  
  


“Breathe. Easy, easy. You remember this one, right? It's a shame the government didn't approve it,” Obadiah smirked, lowering Tony onto the sofa. “There's so many applications for causing short-term paralysis.”

Tony stared at the bald man, despite already being suspicious of the man, hurt blooming in his chest. This man had been his father’s friend. A part of him whispered that he should have expected it but a bigger part roared with betrayal.

“Tony. When I ordered the hit on you, I worried that I was killing the golden goose,” there was a sick gleam in the man’s beady eyes. “But, you see, it was just fate that you survived that. You had one last golden egg to give. Do you really think that just because you have an idea, it belongs to you? Your father, he helped give us the atomic bomb.”

Tony tried to move, to lunge at the man and hurt. He didn’t know how he had even gotten in, but he had a guess, and by the lack of any immediate response from JARVIS, it seemed that Obadiah had shut down his server somehow without Tony noticing.

“Now, what kind of world would it be today if he was as selfish as you?” Tony flinched- or at least tried to- when the man brought out a gadget and pressed it gently against his arc reactor.

“Oh, it's beautiful. Tony, this is your Ninth Symphony. What a masterpiece. Look at that. This is your legacy.”

Tony whimpered, trying to move away from the device, pulling out the very thing that was saving him. 

Fear coursed through his veins and Tony felt his vision darken. Breathing was hard. Something clogged up his throat, his heart, everything.

“A new generation of weapons with this at its heart. Weapons that will help steer the world back on course, put the balance of power in our hands. The right hands,” Obadiah gave a grin at the gaping hole in the middle of Tony’s chest and backed away, putting the arc reactor in the suitcase he had with him.

No!

Tony wanted to scream. He wanted to yell. He wanted to cry.

He can’t let Stane go, he can’t condemn people to the massacre that would descend upon them because of Stane. He can’t.

“I wish you could've seen my prototype. It's not as... Well, not as conservative as yours. Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would have preferred that she lived.”

No… 

Horror crawled up his throat like a monster and all Tony could do was watch, paralyzed as Stane grinned that disgusting smile of his and exited.

No… not Pepper.

—

  
  


“What do you mean, he paid to have Tony killed?” Rhodey inquired incredulously. “Pepper, slow down. Why would Obadiah… Okay, where's Tony now?”

“I don't know! He's not answering his phone. Please go over there and make sure everything's okay. Thank you, Rhodey. I know a shortcut.”

  
  


—

  
  


Tony slumped down, defeat curling his limbs. His old arc reactor stood, shining like the second star, atop his workable, encased in the glass box.

So close, yet so far…

His vision blackened, the luring tendrils of unconsciousness grasped him, tugged him. Whispered at him to let go, to let go… it’d be so easy. It’d be so easy to just… let go… 

A whir. 

Tony blinked dazedly. It was the arc reactor in front of him, brown eyes slipped from the luminous glow to the mechanical claw holding it.

“DUM-E,” he whispered hoarsely, fondness welling up inside him. “Good boy.”

  
  


—

  
  


“Section 16. Section 16. There it is. My key isn't working. It's not opening the door. Oh, wow! What's that? It's, like, a little device? It's, like, a thing that's going to pick the lock?”

"You might want to take a few steps back,” Agent Coulson grimaced, placing a gadget against the door.

—

  
  


The armour Stane had built was impressive but it didn’t match up to Tony’s Mark III, actually it wouldn’t have been a match to the Mark III if it had been at its full capacity. Mark III was at less than half its level of capacity, the Iron Monger- as Stane was calling it- was more than a match for Tony’s armour.

They- they being Tony and JARVIS- were going to need to use some other ways than pure physical combat to win.

—

  
  


“It’s ready Tony! Get off the roof! Tony!”

“Pepper! Time to hit the button!”

“You told me not to!”

“Just do it!”

“You’ll die!”

“Push it!”

—

  
  


Beep. Beep. Beep.

The continuous rhythm from the machine monitoring the brunette’s heartbeat provided a vague sense of comfort to the family.

It had been two days, Tony had only awoken a few times and only for a few minutes each time before collapsing back into Morpheus’ arms.

Hope had once checked in to see how her brother had been doing after the disastrous fight. She couldn’t stop by again but it was clear by the glare she shot Rhodes that she wanted continuous updates.

Pepper and Peggy sat on either side of Tony’s bed, Pepper only getting up to deal with the press and the company. 

Rhodes on the other hand, couldn’t settle at all. He kept pacing the confines of Tony’s private room with all the energy of an agitated lioness. 

His phone was flooded with calls from Mama Rhodes, and he didn’t know what to say to her. What should he tell her? That he failed to protect her son? That he failed to protect his brother? That his brother wasn’t getting up?

What should he tell her… except the fact that he failed?

Peggy had been silent all throughout their time in the hospital, except for the occasional words. Her brown eyes never strayed away from her Little Berry, worry written across her face and anger fueling the fire in her eyes. 

Her fingers wove through the dark brown strands of her godson, and she leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on Tony’s forehead.

“Wake up, Antonio,” she whispered, a deep sigh leaving her soul. “Wake up so that I can give you an earful.”

Pepper wiped away the tear bleeding out of her eyes and sniffed lightly. Watching her friend laying on a hospital bed, wires hooking up onto him and looking so damn tired destroyed her. Watching him hurt, hurt.

“No…” a small groan came from the brunette and immediately the family was on alert. Rhodey scrambled to Pepper's side, heart beating furiously.

“Antonio,” Peggy called the brunette, her hand freezing halfway through combing Tony’s hair.

“Mm,” Tony hummed drowsily and winced visibly when he turned. “No scolding.”

For a second, everyone stayed still, breath caught in their lungs and relief yet to flow through their brains.

Then, Rhodey slumped against the wall heavily and chuckled.

“You maniac,” he breathed out, unshed tears shining in his eyes. “You complete maniac.”

“Yup,” Tony rasped out, a slight smirk curving his lips as he tried to sit up.

“Antonio,” Peggy grasped Tony’s shoulder gently and helped him sit up. 

Tony coughed and immediately curled into himself as pain spread through him like hot needles, “fuck.”

“Take it easy Tones,” Rhodey rushed to his brother’s side, wincing visibly as another cough wrecked through the brunette.

“Here,” Pepper held out a glass of water for Tony to take a few sips.

“Thanks,” coughed Tony before glancing up at his family, a sheepish smile gracing his lips. “Um, sorry?”

—

  
  


“And now, Mr. Stark has prepared a statement," said Rhodey down in the conference room, and then as the reporters began to pipe up he added, "He will not be taking any questions. Thank you."

Rhodey stood aside, and Tony came up to the microphone. 

"Uh. . ." he trailed off, clearly a bit out of balance. ". . .been a while since I was in front of you, I figured I'll just stick with the cards this time."

The press people all chuckled.

Tony cleared his throat and gave a strained smile, Peggy and Pepper watched the livestream from upstairs.

"There's been speculation," Tony began. "That I was involved in the events on the freeway and on the rooftop -"

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark," broke in -Christine Everheart- an all-too-familiar voice. “But do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared, despite the fact that you -"

Tony’s lips twitched as Christine’s icy blue eyes bore into him intensely. 

"I know that it's confusing," said Tony, making a face."It is one thing for you to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations or insinuate that I'm a superhero -"

Christine smirked. 

"I never said you were a superhero," she stated idly, twirling her pen.

"You didn't," Tony backtracked. "Well good, because that would be outlandish and, uh, fantastic-”

he looked back down, and Christine arched her eyebrows skeptically.

"I'm just not the hero type, clearly," the brunette fidgeted with the cards. "With this, uh, laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public. . ."

Rhodey put his mouth to Tony's ear. "Stick to the cards, man," he whispered exasperatedly, Tony nodded.

"Yeah, okay, yeah," said Tony, seeming for a moment to pull it together and holding up the cards to look at them again. "Truth is. . ." 

He looked up, and his face went completely blank once more.

"I am Iron Man."

—

  
  


The raucous yelling of the press faded to the background as Tony brushed past the curtains to the backstage, heart hammering in his chest and yet an odd light feeling encasing him.

His family would be put in danger, yes, but he’d always be there to protect them. He had the means to do it. He would protect them.

“Not bad, Stark.”

Tony whipped around, body taut and ready for anything, before relaxing after seeing who it was. 

“Christine,” he greeted, a smile curling his lips. 

The blonde smirked and crossed her arms. The sounds of his family approaching reached their ears and Christine nodded.

“See you around, Stark,” she said before disappearing.

“Yeah…” Tony agreed in a hushed voice, a slow grin stretching his lips. 

  
  


—

  
  


The gentle grasp of the chilling tendrils of breeze snagged at his clothes as Tony and the others stood outside, in a secluded parking lot for Happy to pull over the car.

Rhodey stared off into the horizon with a deadpan look etched upon his face. Pepper stood beside him, arms crossed and phone in her hand, furiously making changes to plans that had been set, by the grunt she emitted every few seconds, it seemed she was pretty frustrated. Oops.

Aunt Peggy, though, stood by Tony, her arm linked with his and an exasperated and indulgent look playing on her face. 

She had rolled her eyes and shook her head when he had exited the stage before hugging him tightly and whispering, “proud of you, Little Berry.”

She was quite frustrated with him, but more than anything, she was proud of him.

And that made everything worth it.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope y’all like it


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